To See the Face of God
by sydiy5bea
Summary: "To love another person is to see the face of God." Nate's worst fear has arrived seemingly out of nowhere.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm sorry, but I started writing and I couldn't stop. Sad stuff isn't my forte, but I've been trying to challenge myself recently.

Just to clarify: in my head cannon, Nate and Elena have a little girl named Elizabeth (Lizzy) and Nate is a history professor after the events of U3. I don't know where U4 fits in, so don't ask.

* * *

"…And the king promised his people he would feed them all by selling his-" The phone interrupts my lecture. "What a cliffhanger, huh?" I ask the class. They laugh and I tell them to discuss while I answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey sweetie, how's your day been?" Elena asks airily.

"Pretty good, how 'bout you? Everything okay?" She only calls me sweetie when something's up.

"Yeah, Liz and I are fine, but…"

"But what?"

"It's Sully. He's sick."

"Sick?"

"Yeah, he collapsed in a coughing fit, so I called 911 and they took him to the hospital."

My heart drops to my stomach and I feel the blood drain from my face. "Is he…" I swallow hard. "Is he gonna make it?"

"It's not looking good, Nate."

"O-Okay, I'll… Tell him I'll come by later."

"I think you should come soon, sweetheart. He's been asking for you."

"Well, I've got to finish up my lecture. I'll be there soon." I hang up and turn to face my class. I didn't realize they had gone silent. They're all staring at me with varying levels of concern. "Okay, where was I?" I breathe. Nobody answers. They know something's wrong. "The king promised his…" I take a deep breath and wipe my face. "I'm… I'm sorry, my wife just…" _Oh my god, Sully. What'd you do this time?_

"Professor? Is everything okay?" asks Alex in the second row.

"Yeah, it's just my wife called to tell me my friend's sick. Like… really sick."

"Then go," says a quiet voice in the back. I hardly recognize Erin; she never speaks. The rest of the class follows, yelling things akin to what Erin said.

"We won't tell anyone," Harper assures me as the last one to speak.

"Well, if you all feel so strongly about it, I guess I could go. Are you all okay with putting this lecture on pause?"

"Yes," they all say (a little too enthusiastically for my taste).

"Alright, I'll see you all soon."

Various wishes of "good luck" and "hope he feels better" float around the room as I push the door open and sprint to my car.

I call Elena on my cell before starting the car. "You on your way?" she asks.

"Yeah, I just got out of the school. Tell him I'll be there in a few."

"Of course, sweetie. Lizzy wants to talk to you."

"Alright." I put the car back in drive. "What's up, girly?"

"The sky!"

I laugh and say, "You're right, baby. You're absolutely right. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Uncle Suwy has a cough."

"How's Mommy doing?"

"She's okay. She keeps telling me everything's gonna be okay. She has wet eyes."

"Okay, baby. I'm on my way. No need to worry."

"I'm not worried, Daddy."


	2. Chapter 2

I throw the car in park in a spot reserved for handicapped people and sprint inside. I don't care about the ticket. I need to see my best friend.

I run up to the front desk of the emergency room, panting slightly. "I'm here to see Victor Sullivan," I say to the receptionist.

"Okay…" She types a few things into her computer then responds, "He's in critical condition, so-"

"I know, I know, I just need to know what room he's in."

"Patients in critical condition may only be visited by family."

"I _am_ family!" She flinches and I take a deep breath before I continue. "Please, please, just let me see him. He's… he's…"

"What's your name, sir?"

"Nathan Drake."

"Oh, good. He's been asking for you."

I almost yell "no shit", but I hold my tongue. She's taking me to Sully. Nothing else matters. Well, maybe she could walk a little faster.

Elena and Elizabeth are already sitting next to Sully when I finally arrive. "Daddy!" Lizzy squeals, running over to give me a hug. "Uncle Suwy wants to talk to you."

"Thanks, baby." I lift her up and hand her to my wife. "Stay with Mommy. I'm going to talk with Uncle Sully."

I hear her say something, but it doesn't register. I'm sure it was something adorable, but that's not what matters right now. "Nate…" Sully grunts from the bed. He's a sickly, pale color with bags under his eyes, not to mention the various tubes sticking out of him, but he gives me a smile all the same. "What took you so long?"

Elena takes Lizzy's hand and looks at me with sad eyes, then turns to Sully and kisses him on the forehead. They share a silent look and she exits without a sound. That's my cue to take her seat at Sully's side. "I came as soon as I heard. What happened? Elena said you collapsed."

"Yeah, I-" He coughs violently, then lays back wearily onto his pillows. The monitors beep a little faster. "I have lung cancer."

"Sully, how many times have I told you? You knew those cigars were no good for you."

"I know, I know. Guilty as charged. But I always figured something else would get me first. One of your ridiculous lost city adventures, for example." We laugh, then he sobers. "To be honest, I've known about the tumor in my lung for about a year now."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I know it's personal information, but I feel betrayed. We're best friends. We tell each other everything.

"I didn't want you to worry, kid. You have this idea in your head that you can do anything, but that's simply not true." I start to shake my head in denial, but Sully stops me. "I know you better than anyone else alive. You would have stayed up day and night for weeks and months trying to find a cure for cancer. And maybe you would have, who knows, but my point is you have a family to take care of. Elizabeth needs you. Elena needs you. You don't need me anymore."

"No, Sully, don't start talking like that. I need you, okay? You're my best friend, my mentor, my…" I pause and blink rapidly to clear my eyes. It must be dusty in here.

"Nate, I've been around death long enough to know that I'm dying."

I shake my head. "No, you can't. You've done that to me too many times now."

"Please don't get upset. It had to happen eventually." A look of sadness enters his eyes when I bite my lip and turn away from him. He looks like he feels like a terrible person. I think back on all those times he would keep poking and prodding me for a smile. When I inevitably gave in and smiled even the smallest smile, he would beam like he won the lottery. I've never had anyone like that in my life. I don't want him to go.

"Look, kid, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I understand, Sully."

"Kid… My kid…" he rasps, putting a hand on my face. "Now I know this is gonna sound stupidly cheesy, but out of all the shit we've done, you're the greatest treasure I ever found."

I roll my watery eyes. "You're such a dork."

"But it's true. You're like a son-"

"Don't say it."

"Nate. Let me finish." He uses the same tone he used to use when I was younger and I had done something wrong. Instinctively, I drop my head and shut my trap. "You're my son. You've always been my son, even when I swore you were trying to drive me insane."

"Aw, Sully."

His hand moves from my face to my hand. "I'm leaving because I have to, not because I want to. And I know you like to keep things bottled up, so don't shut your family out when I'm gone." He smiles wryly and says, "You're grounded if you do."

I smile back. "You can't tell me what to do, old man."

He sighs, "Nobody can. You're too goddamn stubborn."

"Well, I learned from the best."

"You're damn right you did." Sully tries to laugh, but it quickly turns into coughing. He gasps, chest heaving. "I'm so proud of you, kid," he sputters. His hand clenches then relaxes as he settles deeper into the bed. Like a scene from a movie, the heart rate monitor shows a single flat line and emits a single, continuous tone.

I want to scream. I want to punch something. I want to collapse in a heap on the ground and sob. I want to tear out my heart, knowing that a missing heart would hurt less than a broken one.

But I don't do any of those things.

Instead, I sit by Sully, holding his hand tightly, and staring blankly at the wall. The doctors and nurses rush in, but I don't budge. They tell me to move, gently at first, then more aggressively when I refuse to respond. I'm eventually pried away from Sully and shoved out the door. Elena sits outside the room, silently sobbing into her hands. Elizabeth looks more confused than upset, but I find her crying while hugging Elena's legs. I take my little girl from her mother and hold her close. I turn away when I see the pity in Elena's eyes. I lead the way with in a brisk pace to the car. I need fresh air.

Elena offers to drive me home, but I decline. It takes me a few minutes to bring myself to turn on the car. By leaving the hospital, I'm leaving Sully behind. I sit at a stop light, left indicator clicking away. I turn on the radio, trying to feel something. Anything.


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth and Elena are already in bed when I get home. After changing out of my suit, I flop onto the mattress. I bet this is what whales feel like when they get beached. Sully and I once saw an Orca whale breach in the arctic regions of the Baltic Sea. Sully… Another knife rips through me as the past hour replays in my head.

Elena tries to talk to me, but I tell her I'm fine and that I had accepted Sully's death weeks ago. I knew this was going to happen eventually. Elena, probably surprised at how calm my voice sounds, accepts my statement and scoots under the covers. She's out in ten minutes.

I don't do or talk much the next few days. The university tells me to take the week off to be with my family, so I hang out at home with Elizabeth. Elena works from home, so she's in the office most of the day, emerging for meals and a few breaks to play with Elizabeth. She tries to get me involved in their games or puzzles, but I just watch silently from the couch.

Wednesday morning we get a phone call from a lawyer asking us to come in to read Sully's will. It's news to me that Sully even ever had a will, but we go anyway. Elena and I leave her mother with Elizabeth and head off for the lawyers office. We're shown in almost immediately, cutting out time I'm sure Elena would have used to try and get inside my head. The lawyer says the will is dedicated to only two people, the shortest one he's ever seen. Sully's apartment, boat, plane, bar, and all his money go to Elena. The note says that she would take better care of the finances than I would. "The other recipient is simply listed as 'My Son'," the lawyer informs us. "Our records show us he had neither a biological or adopted son, so I was hoping you would have some insight into who this person is."

I swallow hard. "It's me. I'm his son."

I'm put through various tests to see how well I knew him and so on and so forth, but eventually the lawyer concedes that I'm "My Son" and he explains what Sully left me. "Mr. Sullivan has given you the key to the safe in his apartment."

The lawyer hands me a small, golden key. Apparently, he had it on him when he… you know. I try to think of a place where Sully could have hid this mystery safe as I drive us to his apartment. I take in the all too familiar lobby. It seems to have evaded the grips of time. My fingers lightly brush over the keys of the piano in the lobby, careful not to press them down. I remember the first time I told Sully I could play. He asked me to play a few songs that were left on the piano. They were Christmas carols and by the end of the night, a crowd had formed around the piano to sing along.

Once we finally get to the actual apartment, the investigative journalist in Elena rears its head. She takes in every detail with her sharp eyes. "So this is where you used to live?" she asks, poking her head into the tiny kitchen.

"Yup. It hasn't changed a bit."

"Well, Sully's never been one for change." She smiles as she passes the threshold of my old room. "Oh my god, your room is so… you," she finishes for a lack of a better word. Elena runs her hands along the spines of the dozens of books on the shelves that line the opposite wall. "Where'd you get all these books?"

"Sully got them for me." I pet the dusty head of a stuffed toy husky, Buddy, sitting on a shelf. Sully had given it to me a long time ago. "I had a hard time sleeping-" Elena shoots me a look. "Okay, I _still_ have a hard time sleeping. These would help me fall asleep. Plus, he hated doing research, so he made me do it."

"Which you enjoyed."

"Naturally," I shrug.

We migrate into Sully's room. "Wow, it's messy in here," Elena mutters.

"Nah, it's always like this." I use my foot to sort through a pile of his clothes. "Will you help me look for the safe?"

"Yeah, sure."

We spread out and start shifting through his stuff. I wrack my mind for something Sully said to me hinting at its location, but nothing comes to mind. I find a stash of all the birthday cards I sent him over the years in the drawer in his bedside table. I always picked out the one that made the least sense and wrote a little note on the inside. Chuckling, I put them off to the side to bring home later. Elena expresses her concern of the room being a giant fire hazard every time she finds a cigar stub on the ground.

After sifting our way through his junk, Elena finally stumbles upon the safe. It was hidden behind a painting one of his girlfriends had made. It's so cliché and so Sully, I wondered why I didn't think of it before. The key turns easily in the lock and the door clicks open. There's no money, gold, or important documents, only a camera and a note. I read the note first. It simply reads "B". I put it aside and pick up the camera. I instantly recognize it as the one we bought before our adventure to Versailles twenty-something years ago. We were hired to take pictures of the secret "rose room" that doesn't actually exist. We knew this way in advance, but we went anyway. Who doesn't like getting paid to go on vacation?

The first few shots are of the ground (Sully was trying to figure out how to use it). The next one is of the sun setting over Paris. I roll my eyes as I scroll pass my attempts to get the Eiffel Tower. I pause on a video file. I press play.

 _"Whoa, Sully this thing can take vid-"_

It's a full two and a half seconds long. I must have been fiddling with the settings. I click over to the next one.

 _The screen is blurry until it focuses on my face. I smile and say, "We're in Paris, the city of love. Have anything to say about it Sully?"_

 _I run over to the bed where Sully's laying, looking over some papers. I shove the camera in his face. "Nate, quit it." He pushes my arm away._

 _"He's such a party pooper," I comment from off screen. The next few seconds are really shaky as I lay myself next to Sully, making sure to get both of us in the frame. "Sully, do you have anything to say to our viewers?"_

 _"Just that you're an annoying little snot who likes to shove his nose where it's not welcome. Now leave me be."_

 _"Nah, this is way more fun." I poke him in the side over and over again, waiting for a response. He writes something then uses his foot to push me away from him. "Hey!" He pushes me again harder, using both his feet and his hands. "This is abuse, Sully. I will use this video in a court of law."_

 _"Only if you're still alive to get that far," Sully says in a fake threating voice. I drop the camera as Sully tackles me. The camera focuses on the ceiling as the bed squeaks and I giggle. "I have you at my mercy, Mr. Drake," Sully taunts in his Bond villain voice. "Tell me what you know or things are about to get a lot more painful for you."_

 _"Bugger off," comes my response in my best British accent._

 _"You've forced me to do this." I laugh hysterically as Sully proceeds to put me in a gentle headlock and flip me on my back._

The video continues for about five more minutes, containing the sounds of us wrestling on the bed. Both happiness and pain rip through my heart as I hear Sully chuckling at my laughter. Elena puts a hand on my shoulder then gives me some time alone watching the videos and looking through pictures. I can't believe he kept this. We stopped using the camera after I left for college.

I shake my head to clear my mind and turn my attention to the note with the B on it. B… Is it a clue? It must be. Sully loved a good treasure hunt.

I go back into my room and look through my bookshelf. It's the perfect place to hide something. "What are you looking for, sweetie?" Elena asks.

"I'm looking for 'B'."

"Okay then. Need help?"

"No, I think I need to do this myself."

"Alright, tell me when you're done." She kisses the top of my head and leaves me be.

I flip through all the books that start with B, but nothing falls out. I thoroughly read through the legend of Blackbeard (double B), thinking Sully was still on the pirate mindset, but no underlines or highlights anywhere. I'm still scanning my B volume of the encyclopedia when Elena knocks on the door. "Nate, we should head back. Lizzy's giving my mom a hard time."

I sigh and put the book aside. "Yeah. I'm gonna have to sleep on this 'B' thing."


	4. Chapter 4

Two days before Sully's funeral, I still haven't figured out his "B" riddle. I can't stop thinking about it and thinking about it makes me think about Sully. To take my mind off of him and my aching heart, I work on fixing the cabinet handles. They've been loose since we moved in and I have yet to get around to it. "No time like the present," Sully would always- I bite my tongue. _Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it…_

I yank on the loose nail, but it doesn't budge. My fingers slip off and I cut myself. "Ow! Son of a…" I suck on my finger.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" I didn't see Elizabeth walk into the room. She's carrying a doll and a small hairbrush.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just hurt my finger."

"Want me to kiss it?"

"Sure, baby."

I bend down and she gives it a peck. "Do you need help?"

"You can't reach the cabinets, Lizzy."

"No, do you need help with Uncle Suwy?"

"What?"

"Mommy says you're sad about Uncle Suwy."

"I'm sad, but I'll be okay."

"Mommy says your heart is hurting. I want to help."

"I said I'm fine. Go back to playing with your dolly."

"Are you sure Daddy?"

"I'm sure." I turn back to the cabinet and get back to work.

"Are you sure you're sure Daddy?"

"Yes!" I snap. She flinches and I'm instantly flooded with guilt. "Sorry, I'm just…" I let out a deep sigh. "He was my best friend."

"Do you miss him?"

"Yes, very much."

"Me too. He was nice to me."

"Mm hm." Memories begin to flood in. Sully and I messing around in the snow in Finland, Sully surprising me with a car for my 17th birthday, Sully taking out zombies with a shotgun, Sully… being Sully.

"He liked to watch movies with me," Elizabeth says with a brilliant smile.

"Yeah." My breath catches in my throat. Sully loved _Casablanca_ and _Die Hard_ and _The Godfather_ and James Bond and…

Elizabeth starts listing off things about her uncle. "He told the best stories."

 _Stories…_

"He laughed all the time."

 _Laugh…_

"His moustache was so funny."

 _Moustache…_

"Daddy?"

The world starts to spin around me. "I… I…" My knees weaken and I grab onto the counter behind me. My heart pounds in my ears. I barely register hitting the floor. I hug my knees to my chest and start hyperventilating.

A mixture of terror and confusion washes over her face. She leans back on her heels. "I'll get Mommy."

"N-No, I'm fine. I just… I was just taking a rest. Don't get Mommy."

She timidly pads over and takes a seat next to me. "It's okay to be sad." She puts a hand on my shoulder, attempting to comfort me. "I think Uncle Suwy would be sad if you died."

"Yeah." My next words come out before I can stop myself. "Once I was in the hospital after being tortured for three days. He stayed awake at my side for 80-something hours straight, calling for a nurse anytime I made the slightest groan or whimper. One of the nurses eventually got him to sleep by not allowing him to see me until he'd slept for at least 10 hours. He was such a pain in the ass."

"What's torture?" my four year old daughter asks.

 _Oh crap…_ "It's, um... it's when one person hurts another person on purpose."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"Just tell me, Daddy. I promise I won't tell Mom."

I should have watched what I was saying. Now she's going to nag me about torture for months. "Lizzy," I sigh wearily. I don't want to crush her curiosity, but I also don't want to destroy her innocent.

"Sorry. I forgot you're still sad."

I chuckle and put my arm around her. "It's okay, baby."

There's a short pause in the conversation as she tucks her head between my arm and chest, then "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's a pain in the ass?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Nate, can you zip up my dress?" Elena calls from the master bathroom.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," I yell back. I close the book I was reading to Elizabeth. "Let's go show Mommy your fancy hairdo."

"Yay!" she shouts. She quickly jumps to her feet, almost tripping over herself.

I loosen my black tie before standing up, then I lead her through our room to the bathroom. "Mommy!" Elizabeth exclaims.

Elena smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Maybe it has something to do with the dismal mood the funeral cast over the day. "Hey, baby. Who did your hair?"

"I did," I answer. "I'm getting pretty good at this hair stuff, huh?"

"Mm... I wouldn't say 'good'..." Elena murmurs, a hint of a smile in her eyes. "But you're trying." She deftly pulls the hair tie out of Elizabeth's hair and redoes it. When she's done, she sends Lizzy to get something. Elena turns to me once she's gone and gently asks, "You doing alright?"

I take a deep breath and shuffle my feet a little. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You're not okay." She steps closer to me and takes my hands into hers. "I'm here if you need me. Just say the word."

"I'm fine, Elena. I swear."

She gives me a look that says _I know better_ , but all she says is, "If you say so."

"Found it, Mommy!" Elizabeth yells, running back into the room.

"Good job, baby." Elena runs a hand over Lizzy's hair and crouches down to kiss her on the forehead. "We're gonna be on our best behavior today, right? We're saying goodbye to Uncle Sully, so we have to be very respectful."

"I will," she says, the picture of innocence. "I don't want Daddy to be more sadder."

I chuckle, "I'll be okay, Lizzy."

"You don't look okay."

Elena flashes me a look then turns back to Elizabeth. "Let's go, kiddo."

* * *

"Mommy, pleeeeease!"

"Lizzy, we're not listing to the radio. It's quiet time," Elena repeats for the third time.

"But I want to sing!" She kicks the back of my seat. "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is to sing loud for all to hear."

"It's not Christmas, Liz," I sigh. I really don't want to think about Christmas. The memories of the holidays I spent with Sully are some of the most precious ones I have. Once, we were in Alaska over Christmas break, and a stray husky puppy began to follow me where ever I went. I begged Sully to let me keep him.

 _"Nate, leave the dog."_

 _"Please can we keep him? He's friendly."_

 _"No, we've got places to be. And besides, he's a stray. You don't know what kind of diseases he could be carrying."_

 _"Well, I was a stray and you took me in."_

 _Sully pauses, momentarily thrown off. "This is different, kid. Someone else will come along. You said it yourself, he's friendly. He'll be alright."_

A week later, we were home for Christmas. I had almost already forgotten about the dog, but Sully must have still felt bad. He got me a consultation prize of sorts.

 _"Now, I know it's not anywhere close to the real thing, but here." He reveals a stuffed husky puppy from behind his back. "If you don't like it, I can return it and get you something else."_

 _"No, no. It's great!" I take it from his out stretched hand and squeeze him against my chest. "Aw, he's so cute. What should I name him?"_

 _"Why are you asking me? You're the one who wanted the damn thing in the first place."_

 _"I think I'm gonna call him-"_

"Buddy!" I suddenly yell, startling the other occupants of the car. "Buddy, that's it! I named him Buddy!"

"Yes, we know Buddy the Elf," Elena says carefully.

"No, Buddy the Puppy! My Buddy! That's B!"

"Buddy the Puppy!" Elizabeth exclaims from the back.

"Um, okay..." Elena laughs. "Who's Buddy the Puppy? I thought Sully didn't have any dogs."

"He didn't. Buddy's a stuffed dog that he gave me for Christmas."

"Why would Sully put a B to represent Buddy the Puppy in the safe he left for you?"

"I don't know, maybe it's a clue."

"Oh, Nate..."

"No, really! This is Sully we're talking about! I have to stop by the apartment."

Elena looks horrified. "What, now? We'll miss the funeral!"

"Sully wouldn't mind." I glance over my shoulder to check if the lane is clear. "His exit is coming up soon."

"Nate, listen to me," she snaps. "We are going to his funeral and that's final. He was your best friend! I guarantee he would have gone to your funeral instead of checking on some stupid dog."

"He's not stupid! Sully gave him to me!"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have called him stupid. That was... uncalled for." She takes a deep breath. "But Buddy will still be there after the funeral. We can pay our respects to Sully, then figure out what B is."

"Well... maybe I don't want to go to the funeral."

"Nate, come on-"

"No, really. I don't want to go."

"But he-"

"All that's gonna happen is people are going to talk about great Sully was. It'll be more painful than helpful. Besides, I already know everything there is to know about him, so why bother?"

"Saying goodbye is part of the healing process."

"I already said goodbye as he was dying next to me! I don't need to say it again."

"If you're not going to go to say goodbye, you should go out of respect. He was your father. You need to be there."

I set my jaw and roughly pull over onto the shoulder. Elizabeth shouts her displeasure. I let Elena console her. Once Elizabeth is taken care of, Elena drags me out of the car. "What the hell is your problem?!" she yells as soon as the door is closed.

"Sully is not my father! My father abandoned me at the age of five, never to be seen again. I hate my father."

"That's not what I meant and you know it! You obviously didn't know Sully as well as you thought if you don't know he loved you like a son."

"I know he did! That's why he could never be my father! My father was a cruel man who only cared for himself. Sully was the kindest man I ever knew. He took me in, he fed me, he taught me everything I know. He did it all while putting up with my shit for no discernable reason. I don't know how or why, but he loved me. It's something I can never repay him for. This funeral is just a reminder that somehow I'm still here and he's not. Anyone with half a brain can see that it should have been the other way around."

Elena just stares at me, tears streaming down her face. Subconsciously, I know I'm crying too, but it doesn't really register. The pain... The pain definitely registers. "I miss him so much, Elena," I whisper.

She nods, wiping her eyes. "I know, sweetie. I know. That's what this funeral is for. It's to remind us that even though he's not with us now, he's not gone forever. I know you're not religious, but it helps me to believe he's out there watching over us, waiting patiently for us to join him. He's not gone, Nate. His memory will always be with us."

We embrace for what feels like hours. Elena just holds me while I sob into her shoulder.

We're late to the funeral, but the other attendees waited for us to arrive. Elena and Elizabeth stand on either side of me in front of the coffin. To keep myself from losing it again, I try to think over what Sully could have hidden with Buddy.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm guessing that's Buddy," Elena comments from behind me, keeping Elizabeth from knocking anything over.

"Yup, in all his fluffy glory," I say, peering at the dog from different angles. "Maybe it's something to do with his shadow. If I stand here, it kind of looks like a gun..."

"Or the 'treasure' could be hidden under the dog."

"Oh. Right." I lift up Buddy, and sure enough, there's a familiar key under one of his front paws.

"You know, not everything can be reasoned through like an ancient tomb," she laughs at the chagrined look on my face.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mutter, handing Buddy to Elizabeth. "Here, Lizzy. I think he likes you." I draw Buddy's nose across her cheeks playfully and she giggles with glee.

"I love him, Daddy."

"He loves you too, baby." I run my hand over her head once and turn to Elena, 'treasure' in hand. "Do you know what this key is for?"

"No, but I'm guessing you're about to tell me."

"This is the key to Sully's plane! He's sending us somewhere!"

"Nate..." Elena gives a long suffering sigh. "We can't just pack up and leave. We have Lizzy and full-time, well-paying jobs."

"We can get time off. Think of it like a family vacation."

"To where? You promised me you wouldn't go gallivanting around the world anymore."

"This isn't going to be like the other times," I say, somewhat annoyed. Who is she to tell me I can't go? "It's not like Sully's gonna get me into any trouble. He knows you'd kill him if he did." My attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, so I change tactics. "Look... Funerals aren't my thing. This quest is my way of saying goodbye. I'm sorry if you disagree, but I'm going to follow this through."

She just looks at me with those unreadable, all-knowing eyes. Lizzy's tittering away in the background, but it doesn't interrupt our little stare down. Finally, she says, "Okay."

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. "Really? That worked?"

Elena laughs and softly punches me in the shoulder. "Of course it did. You know I've got a soft spot for those pouty lips and puppy dog eyes."

"Puppy!" Elizabeth thrusts her new best friend between us, effectively stopping our impending kiss.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's been a few days. This story took off in a totally different direction! And I know this chapter is short, but I promise the next one will be longer.


	7. Chapter 7

I shove my hands in my pocket to keep them from shaking after knocking on the door. I've got no proof of ownership, so I can only pray they'll let me take Sully's plane from the hanger. Usually, this wouldn't be grounds for worry. I would just talk and charm my way in, but this hanger is hidden on the shady side of the law. I could get in some serious trouble if the wrong kind of person opens the door. _Sully wouldn't send me some place where I could get hurt... right?_ I've been putting a lot of faith in that recently, but the longer I stand outside the dilapidated hanger, the more I begin to doubt Sully's intentions.

Finally the hanger door opens with a shuddering screech. A man about Sully's age stands in the light of the rising sun. He towers over me and has a build that would make any WWE wrestler jealous. "Who are you?" he asks with a voice that matches his Russian Mafia looks.

"Um, I'm here for a friend's plane."

"Who's your friend?"

"Victor Sullivan." Driving over here, I debated with myself over which name I should use while collecting his plane. He's used so many over the years, he could have had the plane under any of his aliases. In the end, I decided to go with his real name (or the name he gave me). I'm hoping he tried to make this quest somewhat simple.

The brutish man's eyes light with recognition. "Ah, Sullivan! How is that old bastard?"

"Uh, he, um... died last week."

"Oh. God, I'm sorry for bringing it up-"

"No, no, don't be. He's in a better place."

The gatekeeper nods his head sagely. "Of course he is. Sullivan was a great man. He saved my life, you know. I still owe him for that." He shakes his head as if berating himself. "Where are my manners? Please, come in. We should have a toast. To Sullivan."

"You sure?" I ask, not expecting such hospitality. "I can just grab the plane and be out of your hair. No need to waste the alcohol on me."

"Nonsense. Any friend of Sullivan is a friend of mine. Come, I think I have some nice Brandy in the back somewhere..."

In what seems like the blink of an eye, we're sitting around an old boulder of a TV watching a football match, sipping smooth Brandy, and trading stories about Sully. The extrodinary nature of the stories make them exciting, but we're no match for Sully's storytelling prowess. He had a way of making the words come to life. Of course, he was a chronic exaggerator, but that was all part of the trademark Sully charm.

"...And just when you think it's all over, Sullivan's dingy, little bucket comes flying over the ridge to take out the rest of the baddies. He always had a way with timing," the man sighs.

"Yeah," I whisper. I clear my throat then raise my glass. "To Sullivan."

"To Sullivan," he agrees. We both knock back a healthy dosage of alcohol and come up for air with a grimace on our faces. The man finally turns to me and says, "I don't think I ever caught your name."

"It's Drake. Nathan Drake."

He frowns at me, eyes running me up and down. "Hold on... Nathan Drake?"

"The one and only," I nod.

"Oh my god, you're that boy from the picture."

Now it's my turn to frown. "What picture?" I don't like the idea of strangers knowing my name and what I look like. Especially someone who has ties to the "antiquities acquisition" business.

"The picture Sullivan gave me. Hold on." He holds up a finger and places his glass on the TV stand. He runs into the next room, slams a few drawers, and runs back with a paper fluttering in his hand. "Yeah, that's definitely you," he chuckles pointing at the picture. It depicts 17 year old me, mid-laugh, standing in front of the Tower of London.

My only reaction is: "No way."

The man laughs again, dropping in his seat. "He gave me this a while back when he still had his old plane. He pulled it out of his wallet with the proudest smile on his face. He was going on and on about his boy, Nate." I can feel my face flushing, but I stay silent and listen. "Nate this, Nate that. You would think you were the fucking king of the world the way he talked about you. He gave me this picture and told me if you ever showed up at my door, I was to give you whatever you asked for and the favor I owed him would be repaid." He takes a deep breath. "So... what can I do for the great Nathan Drake?"

I shrug, flabbergasted. "I don't really need anything right now."

"Oh, come on. You must need _something._ "

"Well, I didn't really expect this. I kinda just came for Sully's plane."

"That's a start. I'll bet that old junker needs something. His 'new' plane is in much worse shape than the last one. I wonder what happened to it, forcing him to get a new one."

I smile to myself, but say nothing. That's a story for another (drunker) time.


	8. Chapter 8

I insert the key into the rusty lock and yank the plane door open. I wander inside the cockpit looking around for a hint Sully might have left me. The hanger supervisor stands outside the plane and says, "Find anything?"

I drop into the copilot seat, sighing. "No, not yet." I glance over at Sully's usual seat. It's weird seeing it so empty. It's also strangely quiet without his husky voice and it doesn't smell like cigar smoke and... and... I take a deep breath to keep myself from spiraling even further into the past. _Always keep an eye out for the future_ , Sully would say. _You never know when it's gonna turn around and slap you in the face. The past will always stay in the past. There's not sense in mourning it._

I run my hand over the control broad, feeling for anything my eyes may have missed. Annoyed, I exhale sharply and there's suddenly movement in the corner of my eye. My breath must have disturbed something he taped up. I turn to the wall, scanning it intensely. My eyes come to a stop when they roam over a small white flower. A small white _hellebore_ flower. "Wait a second..." I pluck it from its precarious position on the wall to make sure it's real. How the hell did Sully manage to keep it alive this long? "I know where I need to go," I call through the open door.

"Where?" my new friend asks.

"New York. I've got to talk to my..." _How do I describe Jada?_ "I've got to talk to Sully's goddaughter."

The man shrugs. "Alright. I could contact some of my friends at JFK airport. That way you could get in as fast as you can."

"You don't need to do that."

"No, I do. I can tell this is important to you."

I simply nod my head graciously and lounge back in the copilot's chair. It crosses my mind that I'm going to have to fly Sully's plane. Well, technically it's Elena's plane now, but anyone sitting in the pilot chair other than Sully doesn't feel right. It's not the same. Nothing's the same. Nothing will _ever_ be the same.

A knock on the door knocks me out of my funk. "Nathan, I got you an in," the hangerman says. "They'll allow you to land without checking ID or cargo. It's basically a get-out-of-jail-free card."

"Thanks man. When can I leave?"

"Now if you want. Sullivan's waiting for you, kid."

* * *

I scan the line of parked cars along the side of the arrivals terminal for raven hair and colorful bangs. Then I see her leaning against a cab, arms folded in seeming disinterest of the world around her. But as someone who's occupation depends on reading people, I can tell she's discretely watching everyone within a 3 meter radius. I'm so proud.

"Hey, Jada!" I call while approaching her. I don't want to startle her.

"What's up, Indiana?" she smiles. Ever since our last globe-trotting excursion, she's dubbed me "Indiana". At first it was annoying (like most little sisters are), but now it's sort of endearing. Sully remained Uncle Vic until the end, however. Jada tried calling him Mr. Bond for a while, but he shut that down pretty quickly.

"Missed me already?" she teases, pulling me in for a hug.

Jada had flown out for Sully's funeral. She must have just gotten back to New York herself. "You wish," I huff. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine. I'm hurting, but I'm fine. How about you?"

"Um... ditto," I shrug.

"Oh, Nate. You're a terrible liar." Jada shakes her head, then takes my bag. "Get in the car, Indy. It's mandatory movie and ice cream night."

Six hours later, Jada and I find ourselves buried under three cartons of ice cream, two blankets, and a halfway build pillow fort. There's a movie on, but it's mostly just there for background noise. We spend our time and energy telling stories (mostly Sully-centric) and jokes (also mostly Sully-centric). According to Elena, talking about Sully is supposed to make me feel better, but every time Jada says his name, a stabbing pain runs through my heart. And it's in no way Jada's fault. Us talking is probably helping her cope with the loss. Maybe I just miss him too much. Sully had better have something incredible at the end of this adventure for the amount of pain I'm putting myself through.

* * *

A/N: For those who don't know, Jada is a character from the Uncharted novel. She's the daughter of Sully's old friend and his goddaughter. She and Nate develop a brother/sister-like relationship through the course of the book.


	9. Chapter 9

I lay awake the entire night. I guess you could blame the teeth rotting amount of sugar I consumed this afternoon, but even after the sugar high drops me, my eyes stay wide open. When Jada knocks on my door in the morning, I'm already dressed and ready for the day. "Morning, Indiana. You ready?"

"Ready for what?" I yawn, stretching my arms over my head.

"The Met."

"What?" I ask stupidly. My mind is seriously foggy from the lack of sleep.

"The Metropolitan Museum of Art." She talks slowly like she's speaking to a toddler.

"I know what the Met is," I roll my eyes. "I'm asking why you're taking me to the Met."

"Uncle Vic told me to take you when you visited. I work there, so I can give you the backstage tour. He thought I would make a better date to the museum than he would."

"Yeah," I snort, grabbing my coat from my bag. The last time I was at the Met, I was twenty four years old. I dragged Sully along with me. It was a terrible mistake. He whined and complained the entire time.

 _"Nate, come on. We've been here for hours. We should get some lunch."_

 _I give him a long suffering sigh and straighten up from peering through the glass case. "There's a food cart outside if you're hungry."_

 _"I'm not hungry. I was just trying to get you to leave."_

 _"Can't you let me enjoy this?"_

 _"I would, but I'm losing my goddamn mind over here. You can come back later with someone who doesn't want to gouge their eyes out."_

 _"But we're not even halfway through the-"_

 _"It'll still be here when you come back, okay?"_

 _"Fine... But you owe me one."_

 _"I'll buy you a beer, how's that?"_

I haven't been back since. Maybe this whole "adventure" was planned out just to get me back to the Met. I shake my head. That's too simple. There must be more to it than that.

* * *

"I'm authenticating an African totem today, so I can't give you a tour. But my friend is the best tour guide in the whole museum. He's gonna give you the royal tour," Jada promises, referring to the blonde man in the suit.

"Hi, I'm John." He holds out his hand and I shake it with a smile.

"Nate."

"So, you're a history buff I hear."

"Yeah, I kind of have to be. I'm a history professor down in Florida."

"Ah, I see," John smiles. "So, I usually start with the Temple of Dendur in the Egyptian wing. It's our most popular piece."

"Oh, Indiana's more of an Elizabethan England kind of guy," Jada winks. She turns on her heel and heads towards the employee entrance. "Have fun, you two."

I give a small wave and John sighs once she's out of earshot. "Isn't she something?" he asks wistfully.

I watch Jada's receding figure. She has a confident walk and holds her chin high. The fiery red bangs add to her bold look. "Yeah, she's something." I glance at John out of the corner of my eye. He has a light smile on his face, eyes focused solely on Jada. He has the look of a man in love. "Just be careful," I threaten. "If you hurt her, I will hunt you down."

"Well, I don't think anyone could hurt Jada," he stutters, shrinking away from me slightly. He's probably wondering why I'm so protective of her and/or how I know he likes her. I would tell him, but I think it's more intimidating if I leave him in the dark.

My face splits into a smile, making John look even more confused/frightened. "True. And if you did hurt her, she'd probably get to you before I could."

John swallows and adjusts his tie uncomfortably. He motions to the door. "Shall we?"


	10. Chapter 10

John and I spend the entire day wandering in and out of different wings of the museum. My tour guide is very helpful and offers extra information than the little plaques give. Once we're done in the public section, John takes me backstage. There's a huge warehouse full of artifacts. It makes my spine tingle seeing the hundreds of cases filled with trinkets. The few things I managed to pick up over the years wouldn't even make a dent in this.

"Now, these over here were pulled from the cases to be cleaned," John says, waving his hand over to half of the room. "And these over here are actually being sent to London tomorrow."

"London?"

"Yeah, you wanna see?"

"Of course."

There's a dozen jewels, pieces of clothing, and a few books. "This is a first edition _Pride and Prejudice_ donated to us by a collector. The British Museum bought these off of us."

I look over a case of jewelry. There's a few necklaces, bracelets, a crown, and-

"What the fuck?" I jump back, eyes clenched closed. I rub my eyes, then cautiously open one to peer down again.

But it's still there.

 _It._

"Are you okay?" John asks.

"How... Where did you get that?"

He frowns at my shaking finger. "The ring?"

"Yes."

"That was donated by the Drake family."

"The... Drake family?"

"Yes, a descent of Sir Francis Drake surfaced in Colombia twenty-something years ago, and he inherited this ring. The story goes that the ring has been all over the world and helped solved 'historical mysteries'." John laughs and rolls his eyes. "I don't believe it, but London ate it up."

"But I thought Drake didn't have any children," I say, still staring at the ring.

"So did the rest of the world, but Francis apparently had a thing for the local flavors, if you know what I mean."

"Can I... can I hold it?"

"Well, you're not supposed to, but..." He glances around then reaches for the case. "...you're a history professor, so I trust you."

As soon as it's in my hands, I know it's my ring. It's the same weight, the same grooves, the same everything. How the hell did this get here? I saw it get sucked into the sands of Ubar with that witch. The only explanation is Sully. He must have swapped the rings again when Marlowe wasn't looking. "Sully, you beautiful son of a bitch," I say under my breath, turning it around in my hand. The temptation to slip the ring in my pocket and walk out is nagging me to no end.

But holding it, I realize I don't need it anymore. I'm my own person. I have a family that isn't made up in my mind. I haven't even missed it hanging around my neck. Maybe that's why Sully coordinated for me and the ring to end up at the same place at the same time. He was trying to show me that I'm more than just a ring.

I tighten my grip on the ring briefly then place it back in the case. " _Sic parvis magna_ ," I read. "Greatness from small beginnings. Drake's a pretty inspirational guy, huh?"

"Yes, he was a very interesting guy. He sailed around the world, you know?" John replies.

"So I've heard."

My heart is at peace. Sure, I miss Sully, but this has really helped me come to terms with his death. I can't believe he thought far enough ahead to send me on this (admittedly less dangerous than usual) adventure to find Drake's ring. He must have jumped through some serious hoops to get me here a day before they send away the grand prize. Goddamn it, I love you, Sully.


End file.
